


I was born with it

by RobinLo



Series: We Were Destined for This [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Arthur has magic, Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLo/pseuds/RobinLo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin finally decides to tell Arthur about his big secret, but his reveal is interrupted by an attack from a beast that can only be killed by magic. When Merlin is too slow to protect them both, he hopes that Arthur will save himself and run. Instead a secret he never would have guessed is uncovered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I need to tell him the truth

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place somewhere between the fourth and the fifth series, and is set in an AU where Merlin isn't the only one with special powers.
> 
> There is now a prequel to this fic called "I was born of it," and there will probably be a sequel someday too!

“I’m gonna tell him,” Merlin said one night at the dinner table.

Gaius froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Tell whom what?”

“Arthur. I’m going to tell Arthur about my magic.”

Gaius lowered his spoon. “Merlin, are you sure about this? Arthur has shown no signs of changing the laws on magic. I don’t know if now is the right time.”

Merlin stood up. “There is no right time! Every day that passes is another day I lie to him about who I am, for every day that passes my betrayal only grows,” he said as he paced in front of the table. “You’re right, he hasn’t changed the laws, or even talked about changing them, but there hasn’t been a execution since Uther died. When, if not now?”

“Merlin, even if Arthur doesn’t feel that the death penalty is appropriate there’s still a good chance that he will react negatively to your magic. He needs you by his side, Merlin. You can’t risk him dismissing you from your post as his servant, or worse, banishing you.”

“But that’s it!” Merlin exclaimed. “Arthur needs _me_! The real me. How much longer do you think I can hide what I am and still protect him? One day he will be attacked, or there will be an accident, and I’ll have no choice but to use my powers openly to save him. It’s a wonder I haven’t been found out yet, how long do you think blaming it on luck will work? No. It’s better if I just tell him. Better to confess than be found out.”

There was a silence as Merlin sat down at the table again, posture drooping, but with a determined glint in his eyes. His hands betrayed his nervousness, nails tracing the bumps in the woodwork of the table.

“Merlin,” Gaius said at last and covered Merlin’s restless hands with his own. “Whatever decision you make I will support you. I just ask that you think about it carefully, and that you consider what to do should Arthur’s reaction put you at any risk.”

Merlin nodded and withdrew his hands. “I’ll tell him tomorrow,” he said and fiddled with the spoon in his half-eaten stew for a moment before standing up again. “I’m going to bed. Arthur wants an early start tomorrow, so I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Goodnight, Merlin. Will you at least sleep on the decision?”

“My mind is already made up.”

***

It was dark when Merlin finally came back to Gaius’ chambers next day. Gaius himself was waiting at the table, fingers still rapping against the wood just as they had done for the past half hour.

“Well,” he said as soon as Merlin entered the room. “I see that you are neither dead nor chained in the dungeons. How did it go?”

Merlin sighed and sank down in his seat, picking at the bread Gaius had put out for dinner an hour earlier. “It didn’t. I mean, I didn’t tell him.”

Gaius couldn’t help but feel relieved at that. “So you changed your mind after all?”

“No! I _tried_ to tell him, but I just couldn’t find the words.” Merlin ran a hand through his hair. “How do you even work this kind of thing into a conversation? ‘Here’s your dinner, Sire. By the way, I’ve been lying to your face these past four years and should, by the laws you’re sworn to uphold, be burned at the stake. Have a nice meal.’ Yeah. Real smalltalk material.”

Merlin barely touched his food that evening, and when he went to bed he swore to himself that he would tell Arthur the next day.

***

Except that day Arthur was in such a foul mood after one of his knights broke an ankle during training that Merlin didn’t dare breach the subject.

The day after that Gwen had arranged a surprise morning picnic that had the king in such a good mood that Merlin couldn’t stand tainting it with his confession.

The next day Arthur was so busy that there simply wasn’t time, and the next he actually gave Merlin some time off to help Gaius who had his hands full with a mostly harmless but stubborn illness that had taken hold of the lower town.

“I’m never gonna get the chance to tell him!” Merlin complained as they walked from door to door examining patients. “Just as I’m about to he gives me an errand to run, or a councilmember shows up with a motion that needs to be approved, or a horse gets loose in the courtyard. This is impossible!”

“Maybe you’re not meant to tell him. Could be that Destiny is trying to stop you from doing it.”

“Haha, that’s very funny. No I just need to get him alone, where no one can distract me…”

It took a second before Gaius realised that Merlin had stopped walking. When he turned around the boy was staring into space with a thoughtful look.

“I know exactly how to do this.”

***

“Gwen please you have to help me.”

Merlin was practically on his knees at the door to Gwen’s own chambers, which she used when she didn’t feel like sharing with Arthur. It was an ill-kept secret that the king snored, something both Merlin and the knights were well acquainted with after countless nights on campaigns and hunting trips.

Gwen had swept a duvet around her to preserve some of the modesty her nightgown didn’t allow, and she blinked wearily as she greeted her friend. “Merlin, what is this about? It’s not even light out yet.”

Merlin drew himself up. “I know, I’m sorry Gwen, but there’s something I need you to do for me.”

“Of course, you know I’d do anything for you, Merlin,” Gwen said. “Well not _anything_ obviously, you know, but a lot of things. Most things. Reasonable things, like-” She stopped herself. “Sorry, go on.”

Merlin took a second to look around him in the corridor to make sure they were alone before leaning in closer to Gwen with a conspiratorial whisper, “I need you to convince Arthur to go on a hunting trip with me. Just the two of us. Can you do that? Today if possible.”

There was a beat as Gwen just stared at him. “Merlin you hate hunting trips,” she said after a moment.

“I know, I know. I just… Need him alone for a while. I keep getting interrupted, and there’s something important I must do. I wouldn’t ask you to do this except he would suspect something if I proposed a hunting trip.”

“That’s because everyone knows you hate hunting trips,” Gwen said, still looking at him strangely.

“Yes but this is important. Please Gwen. I can’t live like this anymore, I need to tell him the truth.”

He stopped, aware that he’d probably said more than he should, but Gwen’s expression just softened.

“Of course I’ll help you. And I know I’m probably the last person who should say this, but I’m happy you’ve finally decided to tell him.”

Merlin’s face split into a grin, but then it faltered and he widened his eyes. “Wait, you know?”

“Oh Merlin, it’s obvious. Really, I’m surprised Arthur still hasn’t caught on.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“I suppose I did a bit when I first realised, but now, well, I guess that’s just how the world works. You can’t help it, and I know you have no ill intent behind it, so why should I be upset?”

Merlin couldn’t do anything but sweep the queen into a hug at that point, and if there was a tear or two of gratitude on his face he hid it in her shoulder. Gwen returned the embrace, but broke it after a few moments.

“You do realise that this won’t be easy though,” she said, with a gentle hand on Merlin’s cheek. It’s not like you can just announce it to the public and have a celebratory feast or anything.”

“No, no. I know. We’ll just take it slow. Thank you, Gwen. You can’t imagine how good it feels to know that you are alright with this.”

Through the windows a weak light could be seen on the horizon, and Merlin collected himself and said, “I better go down to the kitchens to get Arthur’s breakfast, he wants some early morning training with the knights today. You get a few more minutes of sleep.”

“I’ll talk to him after the training then.”

“Thank you, Gwen. You’re amazing. Oh, and make him think it's his own idea if you can. You know what he's like with other people telling him what to do.”

"I know," Gwen smiled.

Merlin turned to leave, but Gwen touched his arm to stop him.

“Merlin,” she said with a serious expression. “Good luck.”

Merlin just covered her hand with his and gave her a small nod before he set off through the corridor.

***

Merlin was having some serious second thoughts about his plan. He was burdened under a heavy bucket of warm water for Arthur’s post-training wash, and the long walk to the royal bedchamber had given him plenty of time to think about what he had set in motion. Normally he just summoned water into a bucket and heated it with magic, instead of dragging one through half the castle, but today his nerves were already on the brink of breaking down without having to worry about his powers being found out prematurely. He hadn’t even dared to lighten the bucket a bit, and as a result it wasn’t long before his arms were tired as well as wet from the water that sloshed out of the bucket every time it bumped against his leg.

What if the plan didn’t work? What if he still couldn’t make himself reveal his magic? And what if he did? Maybe having that talk out in the middle of nowhere was a bad idea, after all, it would be so much easier for Arthur to just kill him where he stood and not having to bother with a public execution. He could say that they had gotten separated in the woods, or that a boar had gored Merlin and he didn’t have the chance to retrieve the body.

No. He had to stop thinking like that. He couldn’t believe that Arthur would actually kill him, they’d passed that point years ago. _But what if…_ a little voice nagged in his mind. Merlin resolutely squashed it, but there was still the possibility that Arthur would hate him. A very probable possibility. After all, Merlin had lied to him for years. He was Arthur’s best friend and he’d betrayed him, lied to him every single day that they had known each other. Who wouldn’t be angry? It wouldn’t be surprising if Arthur banished him fro-

“Merlin!”

His brooding was cut short by Arthur’s voice coming from right behind him. He startled, splashing even more water over himself and the staircase, and would probably had lost his balance if a laughing Arthur hadn’t chosen that moment to put a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Gods, Arthur!”

Merlin turned to the king and gave him a glare that only made him laugh harder.

“Did I scare you?” he said as he took the bucket from Merlin and they started walking together.

“No! As if you ever could. The way you’re blundering through the castle I’m not surprised if half of Camelot heard you coming.”

“Are you saying that you could walk quieter than me?” Arthur asked, raising his eyebrow in a challenge.

“I know it.”

“Well then, you’ll have your chance to prove yourself. We’re going hunting this evening, just you and me. Maybe you can manage to sneak up on something without alerting the whole forest to your presence this time. You can go pack what we need after I’m out of this armour and smell a little better.”

Merlin only responded with a face that would have put any other servant in the stocks for a week.

***

“What is _wrong_ with you today, Merlin?” Arthur asked after almost an hour of walking through the woods with nothing but total silence from Merlin. “I know you’d rather be back home than hunting, but the problem is usually to get you to shut up.”

“Oh no, I’m actually kind of delighted that we’re out here,” Merlin responded, trying to stop his voice from shaking too much.

Arthur stopped on the narrow path they were on and turned to Merlin, taking care not to point his loaded crossbow at the man. “Alright, now I _know_ there’s something wrong. You hate hunting. What is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s nothing,” Merlin’s treacherous lips said and he cursed himself for the missed opportunity.

“Right.” Arthur didn’t sound like he believed him, but he started walking again anyway.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Merlin managed to speak up again. “I _am_ glad to be out here though. Away from the castle. Alone.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, um… It’s a lovely evening?”

“Merlin I’m getting the feeling that you are about to either assassinate or serenade me, neither of which are particularly alluring options. I’ve heard your singing voice and one time was enough.”

“What? No!” Merlin laughed nervously. “I just meant… It’s nice to get out sometimes. It’s easier to talk out here. About things.”

“I’m not entirely sure what you are doing actually qualifies as talking. More like blabbering.”

Arthur's tone of voice was easy, but his shoulders seemed somewhat more tense than before. However, this was lost on Merlin who had started and now could not stop, indeed, blabbering.

"Because when you're in the castle there's all these people around who interrupt all the time and talk to you, when it is in fact _us_ who need to talk about things. And that is hard to do when people interrupt all the time with papers that need signing and feuds that need solving, and let me tell you, that farmer with the pregnant cow and the neighbour with the bull should really just learn to communicate with their neighbours and make a deal about who repairs the fences instead of coming to you and-"

Merlin collided with Arthur's back and cut himself short.

"Merlin, would you please get to the point?! There is clearly something on your mind, so let's just hear it."

Arthur turned around and gave Merlin a glare that almost rivalled Merlin's own practiced skill.

"We are not moving another step before you cut to the chase and say what you want to say."


	2. I need to talk to you about magic

“We are not moving another step before you cut to the chase and say what you want to say,” Arthur said, and Merlin knew he wouldn’t be swayed.

“I…” Merlin swallowed. It was now or never. There really wasn’t any point in delaying it. “I need to talk to you about magic.”

Arthur visibly froze, a spark of panic in his eyes. “What about magic?” he asked.

Merlin could feel his face heating up, and his skin was practically tingling as his magic reacted to his nervousness. He forced himself to meet Arthur’s eyes and breathe normally, refusing to give in to the feeling of panic rising in his chest.

“Arthur,” he said, and at that moment all hell broke loose.

Something furry burst through the trees, and it was all they could to throw themselves out of the way, hoping not to get trampled into the ground in the process. When they looked up again they could see the beast turning around to attack them again, and they quickly scrambled to their feet.

In a wondrous spot of luck Arthur discovered that his crossbow had not gone off in the fall, but was still loaded. He aimed it at the enemy and fired, but the arrow bounced right off the hide of the beast without leaving a single mark.

Merlin dropped the bag he was carrying over his left shoulder and tightened his grip around the hunting spear he was holding in his right hand.

The cat - for it was a cat, but bigger than any normal cat had any reason to be - had gained its composure and was rushing towards them again. It was a brown monstrosity, speckled with black spots, that stood taller than an ox.

Arthur had foregone the now useless crossbow, having deemed it a waste of time to try to reload it before the beast struck again, and was now brandishing his sword, standing his ground. Merlin took after his example and raised his spear.

The next couple of minutes were lost in a whirlwind of fur and noise as they fought the giant cat. After mere moments it was obvious to Merlin that it would take magic to fell the creature, as in the case of the griffin and the Questing Beast. Every blow he or Arthur landed bounced right off the animal, just as the arrow had, and while they were soon covered in sweat and small scrapes the cat showed no sign of either fatigue or injury.

They had just managed to get the monster between them so they could attack from opposite directions when Merlin finally remembered the spell he had used on Lancelot’s lance, helping him slay the griffin. He repeated it in his mind a few times to make sure he got it right, then he thrusted his spear at the cat’s head, giving him it’s undivided attention for the time being.

This was it. This was how it would happen, his big reveal. After all, saving Arthur’s life with magic, yet again, wasn’t the worst way to deliver the news. With the spell on his lips and the spear in his hands he faced the beast, ready to deliver the final blow, but as the cat approached Merlin’s foot slipped on a rock and he lost his balance.

He regained his footing in a matter of seconds, but it was enough time for the cat to make the leap and pounce on him. With a blow of its massive paw it sent Merlin sprawling to the ground, spear flying out of his hand as he landed.

Merlin’s head pounded with the impact of both the clawed paw and the ground, and he was sure he could feel blood trickling down his face. He tried to concentrate enough to summon the spear to his hand, but his head felt like it was reeling, his vision blurred, and he couldn’t get a grip on his magic. All he could do was lie on the ground, panting with effort as he tried not to throw up.

“ _Merlin_!” he could hear Arthur shout, but his eyes were fixed on the beast, hovering over him as if deciding what part of him to devour first.

He knew he was done for, but he couldn’t help whispering, “Run. Run, Arthur,” in the hope that he might escape the same gory fate.

The cat bared its teeth, ready to dig into Merlin’s flesh, and he closed his eyes in anticipation of the bite.

A second passed, then another, and Merlin wondered why his body was still in one piece. What was that warm stuff dripping down on his stomach? He opened his eyes, and his vision was flooded with a bright blue light. With a frown he concentrated enough to understand what he was seeing.

The beast still loomed over him, but through it’s chest he saw the tip of a sword engulfed in the same blue flames he remembered from Lancelot’s victory over the griffin. Dark blood was dripping down on him from the wound, already pooling around him.

“Merlin, roll aside! It’s gonna fall any second now and I don’t much fancy you being crushed to death after I’ve just saved your life,” Merlin heard, and he realised that Arthur was crouching on the creature’s back, sword still in hand.

Even though his head and back protested Merlin managed to roll from underneath the cat before it slumped to the ground as the life left it. This time he remained lying in his new spot while Arthur pulled the now flameless sword out of the body and cleaned it off on the grass.

Arthur sat down at his side after a moment and asked, “How’s your head?” There was real concern in Arthur’s voice, but when Merlin satisfied his worries with a grunt his voice turned back to its usual prattish tone.

“Look at you, you’re filthy. I have never seen anyone covered in so much blood before, you’re lucky most of it isn’t your own.”

Merlin paid his words no heed but turned his head to stare at the king.

“What the _hell_ just happened?”

“I saved your life, _again_. You really are as useless with a spear as you are with a sword.”

Merlin winced as he lifted himself up on an elbow in order to look Arthur in the eye.

“No, I mean what happened to your sword? I did _not_ do that.”

There was a pause as Arthur stared at him, looking more afraid than Merlin had ever seen him.

“So you saw that, huh,” he said.

“Yes, I saw that. Arthur, that was _magic_.”

Arthur sighed and rested his face in his hands. He remained silent while Merlin struggled to sit up, putting a hand on the kings shoulder.

“I really can’t believe that I’m about to ask you this, of all people, but Arthur? Do you have magic?”

“I was born with it, alright?” Arthur blurted out, seemingly unable to stop himself. “It’s not something I chose.” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I imagined telling you.”

Merlin just sat there, hand on his king’s shoulder, mouth gaping while blood dripped slowly from his cheek. Never in a million years would he have guessed that his own confession would be interrupted by the reveal that _Arthur Pendragon_ had magic.

After a minute Merlin realised that Arthur was watching him intently, and he closed his mouth.

“Will you please say something?” Arthur asked, and Merlin thought that he’d never seen Arthur looking more vulnerable than he did in that moment.

“I-” he started, but stopped. What did one say in a situation like this? He hadn’t imagined to be on this side of the conversation.

“I can’t _believe_ you didn’t tell me you have magic!” he finally managed, more incredulous than accusing, but Arthur stiffened.

“You know why I couldn’t tell you. It’s against the law, and I am the law. How could I tell anyone that I have magic? That their king is… _tainted_?”

Merlin moved his hands to cover Arthur’s that rested on his knees.

“Don’t ever think that,” he said with heat. “Don’t you ever think that there’s something wrong with you because of this gift. I know that you’ve heard Uther say that magic is evil all your life, but do you honestly think that you are a bad person just because of something you have no control over?”

When Arthur wouldn’t meet his eyes he continued, “Look at me Arthur. Look at me. Are you evil? Do you actually think that you are evil?”

Arthur stared into Merlin’s eyes for a long moment before he finally said, “No,” with a small voice.

“Then it doesn’t really matter if you have magic or not, does it? Your magic doesn’t define you.”

Arthur searched his face with a frown. “I don’t understand. You have always been so supportive of my father’s cause. How can you say that you don’t care about my magic when you’ve condemned it yourself?”

Merlin let out a shaky laugh at that. “You, if anyone, should understand that sometimes people lie to protect themselves.”

Arthur huffed and looked away. Then he looked back, a calculating look in his eyes, and when he finally understood the implications of what Merlin had just said his mouth fell open.

“ _You_?!”

“Me. That was what I was trying to tell you before the cat from hell jumped us.”

“Gods, I thought you were going to say that you had discovered my secret.”

“Believe me, if you had told me I would have laughed at the idea. In fact, I saw it with my own eyes and I still have trouble believing.”

“How did you think I survived all the blows to my head through the years? There’s only so much you and Gaius can do with your herbs. Any lesser man would have died or suffered severe brain damage by now.”

“Who says you didn’t?” Merlin grinned, then he suddenly realised that he was still practically holding hands with Arthur, and released his gentle grip after indulging himself in the touch for another second or so. He bit his lip and looked down for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I wanted to, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wish I had, we could have saved ourselves and others so much trouble.”

“Don’t blame yourself, I wasn’t exactly open about it either."

Merlin smiled and shook his head. For a while they sat in a thoughtful silence, then Merlin said, "So what now?"

"Now we go back to Camelot, get a good night's sleep, and in the morning we will have an incredibly awkward conversation with Guinevere, but not before I have a look at that head wound of yours."

Arthur removed his bloodstained gloves and moved to crouch beside Merlin to get a better look at the wound adorning his cheek. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but there was dirt in the open gash that needed cleaning out.

“You’re wrong you know,” Merlin said as Arthur touched the sore area.

“Hm? About what?”

“Gwen. I don’t think it’s gonna be all that awkward, I mean she already knows.”

“ _What_?” Arthur spluttered.

“At least about me, she told me when I asked her to help me get you out on this hunting trip.”

“I _knew_ you complained too little about it to be up to anything good!” Arthur punched Merlin lightly on the shoulder, then went back to inspecting the wound. “Give me a hand with this? I don’t have any clean water so could you magic the dirt out of the wound?”

“Sure,” Merlin said, and with a flash on his eyes the earth and grass that had tainted the gash was gone.

“So do you think she knows about me?” Arthur asked and continued his seemingly aimless prodding of Merlin’s face.

“That’s hard to say. I mean she said it was obvious that I had it, but if even I can’t tell or sense that you have magic then who knows? She’s got a sharp eye and an even sharper mind, so I wouldn’t rule it out. She is married to you after all. Ow!”

“Sorry.”

A warm stinging sensation flowed through Merlin’s cheek, and he raised a hand to cup it. The feeling abated and turned into something almost pleasant while he ran his fingers over his skin, and then he realised that the wound was gone.

“Arthur, what did you do? It’s healed! There’s not even a scar,” he said incredulously, still trailing his fingertips over the smooth skin that now only showed some lingering redness and swelling after the creature’s blow.

Arthur just shrugged. “I’ve always had a talent for healing magic. Actually, that was the only way my magic manifested in my youth. It probably saved my life, because as long as I didn’t tell anyone I was hurt they wouldn’t be suspicious that there were no wounds left, and pain is easier to hide than accidentally setting the throne on fire.”

“Lucky bastard, I’ve never really gotten the hang of healing spells. My childhood consisted of flying bowls and burning beds. Don’t even talk to me about puberty.”

“Yes, but I imagine that Hunith only scolded you and wouldn’t actually burn you alive.”

“Then you don’t know how dearly she loved her Mercian salt pot. I swear I’m only alive because I managed to magic it back together again.”

Arthur shook his head with an amused smile and stood up. He stretched out a hand to help Merlin to his feet, and Merlin took it gratefully. His cheek may have been healed, but the rest of his body was still fairly battered and bruised.

***

The journey back to Camelot went quickly, helped by the fact that Merlin - with obvious glee at being able to do so openly - cast a spell on their bags to make them weigh less. Arthur chided him for it, asking if he cheated at all his chores, to which he replied that it sounded an awful lot like cheating for Arthur to fight an opponent who couldn’t magically heal any minor wounds.

Soon they had stowed away all the hunting equipment and found themselves in Arthur’s chambers. Merlin didn’t feel like going to bed, and Arthur made no attempt to chase him away, so they ended up sitting on the pelt in front of the cold fireplace.

“Light the fire, will you Merlin. There’s a chill in the air tonight.”

“Why don’t you do it? I want to see you do more magic.”

Arthur squirmed a little. “I’ve never been very good at fire.” He paused, then - ducking his head as if he were embarrassed by the truth - he said, “Actually I’ve never managed to light anything on fire.”

“What, really? Which spell have you been using?”

“That’s the problem! I don’t know any spells. As the son of Uther Pendragon I didn’t really have much opportunity to sit down and study magic. I’ve been trying to learn some of the basics on my own, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

“That’s because most people actually need spells to get any results, even those who are born with the ability can only do so much without knowing spells. I’m impressed that you’ve mastered healing so well without proper training.”

“Impressed, eh?” Arthur asked with a smirk.

“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin replied, rolling his eyes. “Occasionally even you manage to do something worth noticing.”

“Like saving your life?”

“If you knew how many times I’ve saved you you wouldn’t be that- Hang on. How did you save my life if you said you didn’t know any spells? It looked like you used the same spell as I did when I killed the griffin.”

“Well obviously I know _that_ one. I looked it up after Lancelo- Wait, _you_ killed the griffin? I thought Lancelot-”

“Lancelot _helped_ , certainly, but the creature could only be killed by magic, so I enchanted his lance so it would do the job.”

Arthur groaned and covered his face with his hands, mumbling something.

“What?” Merlin asked.

“IthoughtLancelothadmagic,” Arthur said and revealed his red face with a pained expression.

“You thought _what_?”

“Oh gods don’t make me say it again.”

“So all this time you’ve thought _Lancelot_ had magic?” Merlin couldn’t keep from laughing.

“Yes, no need to rub it in, Merlin.”

“But _why_?”

“What else was I supposed to believe? First Gaius tells us the griffin is a creature of magic and could only be killed by magic, then my father sends us out to fight it anyway, and the next thing I know I see Lancelot on his horse, lance in hand, and the griffin lies dead before him with _smoke_ coming from its wound. I knew no one in my party had done it before they got knocked unconscious, and I certainly didn’t do it. Tell me what other conclusion I was supposed to come to.”

Merlin only gaped, so Arthur continued, “All those times we were in battle and I kept being saved by the most improbable thing, like a branch falling on an enemy, I thought it was him keeping an eye out. And all the times before he joined the knights again I accredited those strokes of luck to my own magic subconsciously acting out to protect me.”

“But that was me!” Merlin said.

“Yes I realise that now, _Mer_ lin! Gods, I feel like an idiot. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate me better in the future, now that you know all about the things I’ve done for you.”

“Merlin, I’ve always appreciated you, I don’t need to know about your magic to see that you’re braver than any knight I’ve ever met. You’ve stood by me in countless battles, without even a sword to help you. Do you think I had not noticed that you have served me without fail beyond the duty of a servant? Beyond the loyalty of a friend?”

Once again Merlin was left speechless, he hadn’t expected Arthur to drop his usual act of amused indifference to actually acknowledge him in this way. He felt a smile forming on his face as Arthur stretched out a hand and squeezed his shoulder.

“Everything you’ve done I know now, or at least I will realise in time. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you’ve helped me build.”

“You’d have done it without me. You’re a great king Arthur.”

“Maybe,” Arthur smiled, “but as it is I would have been dead twenty times over if it wasn’t for you, and I owe all the rest to your council too. I guess what I want to say is-” He paused for a second, then moved his hand to clasp the back of Merlin’s head, bringing them a bit closer to each other, and said, “Thank you, Merlin. Thank you.”

Merlin’s blood was pounding in his ears as he leaned into the touch, and he wet his dry lips before finally managing to say “My pleasure,” somewhat hoarsely.

Arthur’s eyes dipped down to Merlin’s lips for a second before he released his warm hold of Merlin’s neck.

“It’s getting late, you better get some sleep before we have the talk with Guinevere tomorrow.”

Merlin swallowed and nodded, heart still pounding strangely. “Yes of course.” He stood up to leave, but Arthur stopped him with a touch on his leg.

“Will you light the fire before you go? It really is a bit chilly tonight.”

Merlin didn’t feel it himself, his skin felt comfortably flushed, but with a flash of his eyes he had filled the hearth with firewood.

“Use the spell _forbearnan_ , and maybe you’ll be in luck this time,” he said with a smile, then walked to the door.

As Merlin left the room he saw Arthur tentatively stretching out his hand and whispering _forbearnan_ , a smile spreading over his face as his eyes glowed gold and flames started licking the wood.

Merlin grinned and closed the door behind him. His pulse was still rushing when he made his way to his own room.

***

Arthur fiddled with a piece of bread and looked across the table where his wife was enjoying their shared breakfast. Merlin, who stood on his right side, gave his chair a little kick, and Arthur cleared his throat.

“So,” he said, “Guinevere. Merlin here tells me you already know… about him.”

Gwen nodded. “Yes, it’s obvious.” She turned to Merlin. “I take it your conversation last night was fruitful?”

“Yes, though a bit surprising and filled with far more violence than I would have liked.”

Gwen frowned, and then noticed the faint redness of Merlin’s cheek where the wound had been.

“He didn’t hit you, did he? Arthur, please tell me you didn’t hurt him for telling you-”

“No! No, of course not,” Arthur replied with fervor. “We were attacked by a beast, and Merlin took a hit before I could slay it. It was after that that all was revealed.”

“And?” Gwen pushed, food forgotten on her plate. “How did you react?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly condemn him for it,” Arthur took a deep breath to steel himself, then looked Gwen straight in the eyes, “Seeing as I myself was harbouring the very same secret.”

“That,” Gwen said with a solemn smile, “Is also obvious.”

Arthur straightened in his chair. “It is? And you’re not angry about it? Angry at me for hiding it for this long? Do you think more people know?”

“No Arthur, I could never be angry at any of you for this. It is not in your power to change, and if it is the will of Destiny, then who am I to refuse it? I know you still love me as well, so I’ve come to realise that there’s no real reason to be upset. As for other members of the court, I couldn’t say. Everyone knows that there’s something special about Merlin, that he is not just any servant, and anyone with eyes can see the way you look at him, but people also have a tendency to see only what they want to see.”

There was a silence, then Arthur and Merlin simultaneously burst out, “What are you _talking about_?”

Gwen looked between them. “What are _you_ talking about?”

“I’m a sorcerer! I have magic!” Merlin said. “That was what I wanted to tell him last night before we got attacked.”

“Yes, and then I saved his life. With magic,” Arthur added.

“Wait, so both of you have _magic_?” Gwen asked with a dumbfounded expression. Then she leaned back in her chair and stared into the distance. “Everything makes so much sense now.”

“Yes! What did you think I was going to tell him?”

“I thought you wanted to get Arthur alone for a while so you could finally tell him that you’re in love with him!”

“That he’s _what_?” Arthur spluttered and turned his head to look at Merlin who just stood there opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence.

Gwen bit her lip and then stood up. “Right, so I’ll go process these news and leave you two to have this conversation for real this time. Alone. Without me. Alright. Good.” And then she was gone.

After the door closed there was silence so deafening that it drowned out all sounds but the breathing of the king and his servant.

After a minute or so Merlin sat down on the chair at the end of the table with a thump. With his mouth still hanging open and a vacant expression he stared out through a window.

“So,” Arthur said.

“So,” Merlin replied, still staring out into nothing.

“My wife seems to be under the impression that you’re in love with me.”

“I noticed.”

“And that I return those feelings.”

Merlin snapped his head back to look at Arthur, whose cheeks were flushing red.

“And do you?” he asked.

“No! Well… Um… Do you?”

Merlin looked at the table, then back at Arthur, then at the ceiling, then at a wall, then the floor, then finally back at Arthur again.

“I-” he said, “I don’t think I’ve actually thought about it before.”

“And now that you have? What are you thinking?” Arthur insisted.

“I don’t- Wha- I- What are you thinking about it?”

“Well, I- I-” Arthur stood up and started pacing back and forth along the table. “What did Gwen say before? When you two conspired against me to get me out on that trip?”

“Um, I don’t know. Something about it being obvious, and that though she minded at first she grew to accept it because that’s just how the world works and you can’t control how these things happens.”

“So it’s true then?” Arthur folded an arm across his chest and raised the other one to worry at his lip with his thumb.

“I didn’t say that, just that she gave it - this, us - her blessing. I thought she was talking about magic.”

Merlin was now standing up too, arms hanging awkwardly at his side.

“That’s, uh… understanding of her,” Arthur said, still pacing. “I mean, if it were true.”

“Yes. If it were true,” Merlin nodded.

Then it hit him.

All those years he had served Arthur, coming to see that the prince was more than a stuck up prat, seeing him grow to become the king that the people loved and respected, growing to care for him and the destiny they shared more than Merlin cared for his own life.

All the times he had sacrificed everything to make sure that Arthur would not get hurt, the way a compliment from Arthur meant more than any words of praise from someone else could ever mean, the way a fleeting touch on Merlin’s shoulder could brighten his whole day.

The feeling in his stomach when Arthur took his advice to heart and chose to heed it, the way he had forgotten what he had done to Agravaine when Arthur told him that Merlin was his only friend and that he couldn’t bear to lose him.

He remembered how he had felt when Arthur had offered him the place on his right at that the first Round Table, how his throat constricted when Arthur called him old friend and shook his hand before going out to fight Queen Annis’ champion.

He recalled every look they had ever shared, every touch that had lingered just a tad too long as Merlin helped Arthur dress in the morning, helped him undress…

He was in love with Arthur, and he was well and truly fucked.

Now that he had finally accepted his feelings he suddenly understood what his body had been trying to tell him all along. The lightness in his head, his rushing pulse, the light flush on his face and neck, the itching in his fingers that had nothing to do with magic and all to do with wanting to reach out and _touch_. His whole body was screaming at him to stop Arthur’s pacing and just kiss the man, but he couldn’t do that.

There was no way he would risk his position by confessing to yet another atrocity. It had taken him the better part of four years to muster the courage to tell Arthur about his magic, and then only because he thought that it would be easier to fulfill his Destiny and protect Arthur if he didn’t have to hide how he did it. There would be no point in risking it all just because Gwen had a feeling it might go both ways.

He blinked, and realised that Arthur had stopped his pacing and was standing right in front of him.

“Um, what?” Merlin said when he realised that Arthur had said something and was waiting for a reply.

“I said, _Mer_ lin, that you would tell me if it were true, wouldn’t you?”

“Er, yes. Of course, but it isn’t,” Merlin managed to croak out. Arthur was really standing quite a bit closer than usual.

“And yet, somehow,” Arthur mumbled, searching Merlin’s face and taking a step even closer, “I don’t believe you.”

Merlin could feel Arthur’s breath on his lips by now, and it was all he could do to stop himself from leaning just a little bit forward and-

And then Arthur made the decision for him, and suddenly there was a hand in Merlin’s hair, and lips against his own, a gentle but demanding presence coaxing him to give in to the touch. It took another second for Merlin to realise that Arthur wasn’t just messing with him, and then he closed his eyes and finally let himself melt into the kiss.

Merlin raised his own hand and let it run through Arthur’s soft hair, curling around the nape of the king’s neck as he returned the kiss with heat. He let his lips speak for him, trying to convey what he hadn’t allowed himself to express in words. All the years of lingering looks and touches, all the words he had never said - never known he’d wanted to say - were poured into that kiss, and in that moment his heart was filled with complete content.

He felt Arthur’s arm snake around his waist and responded with clutching the fabric of Arthur’s tunic at his hip, pulling him closer.

After a minute they drew apart slightly, softly panting for air. Merlin shook his head with a wry smile, and then leaned his forehead against Arthur’s with eyes closed.

“I think we need to have another talk with Gwen,” he said.

“At least we’ve already got her blessing, otherwise it could have gotten awkward,” Arthur answered.

Merlin let his hand slide from the king’s neck to settle on his hip instead before saying, “Oh I think this talk will be awkward enough to compete with the one we just had.”

“I can’t believe you thought she was talking about magic.”

Arthur let his hand gently trail over Merlin’s neck as he spoke, fingers slipping under the neckerchief to massage tiny circles into the soft skin.

“Oh shut up, like you wouldn’t have thought so too if you had been there you dollophead.”

With a feigned huff of indignation Arthur drew his head back to look Merlin in the eye. “I can’t believe you’d speak to your king like that. The mouth on you!”

Merlin just cocked an eyebrow and replied, “I will speak however I wish to my king while said king has his hand resting on my arse. And that’s not all my mouth can do.”

He smirked when Arthur blushed (something the king would later vehemently deny) and used his grip on Arthur’s hips to guide him in the direction of the bed. The conversation with Gwen could wait a while longer.


End file.
